


Never (afraid) of you.

by aionimica



Series: Space Girlfriends [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Fear, Femslash, Femslash February, Light Angst, Light Smut, Smut as Character Work, Smut with character development, f!kylo ren, fem kylo ren, fem!Kylo Ren, i guess, reylo femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 18:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13576440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/aionimica
Summary: Kylo Ren knew of fear. She didn’t get to her place without it. She knew the feeling of dread curling on her spine, the gaping yaw of her stomach folding as the night of the cosmos drew her in.Rey and Kylo spend a night together.





	Never (afraid) of you.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [kiddohah's amazing and phenomenal art](http://kiddohah.tumblr.com/post/170371621603/check-out-the-whole-piece-at-my-patreon-its) that i just couldn't get out of my head.
> 
> happy femslash february everyone!

* * *

  
Kylo Ren knew of fear. She didn’t get to her place without it. She knew the feeling of dread curling on her spine, the gaping yaw of her stomach folding as the night of the cosmos drew her in.

But she never feared it. She knew what it felt to stare down death and to be emboldened. She saw fear and saw a challenge; a mountain to climb and a beast to ride. Fear was ambition and power and the fastest course. Fear and adrenaline were twins in her veins.

Kylo Ren knew of fear, but she never was afraid. But here on her bed with Rey’s fingers interlocked with hers, Kylo tasted fear in her mouth and with a gasping reach of her lips, she swallowed it whole.

“Don’t be afraid,” Rey said softly, whispering in the small space where her neck stopped and her jaw began.

 _Afraid_.

 _Afraid_.

The word beat in her throat as Rey leaned in, her lips leaving soft trails against her skin. They were in nothing, or close to it, the sheets tangled around them, the warmth from her bleeding in.

Kylo shifted, heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m not…”

 _Afraid_.

 _Afraid_.

She gasped as Rey’s hands snaked against her, shattering her grip on fear; warmth spread in her wake, every inch of her awake and alive and yearning for more. Rey straddled her hips, keeping one hand on Kylo’s as she leaned down and drew her jaw up.

Lips met, soft at first; gentle and tender, hearing and searching and Kylo met them eagerly. A hand tangled in her hair, pulling her in. Kylo followed, eager to be led. She tasted as Rey licked her lips, taking in the salt on her lips, the trace of mint hanging on her tongue. And she wanted more. She leaned in, taking and giving as they tangled in each other, a mess of skin and limbs panting and wanting and aching.

There was fear and there was fright, but Kylo shook and trembled from something else with as heat pooled between her thighs. It resounded in her head and clouded her vision as Rey moved her hand down and down until she cupped her breast. Her fingers moved quickly, twirling and twisting, pulling the sounds from her as Kylo tremmored below.

But there was familiarity in their union, a pattern that the followed day in and day out. She knew the contours of Rey as well as she knew her own; they were mirrors of the other, opposites and alike. In the world beyond they were mismatched and odd jointed, a pairing that made the world stop and wonder.

But here? Here was for them, their bed an altar where they worshipped and where Rey was worthy of whatever she asked. Kylo arched her back as Rey teased a finger between her thighs, coming back across her slick and wet.

“I’m not...” Kylo tried again. Hazy eyes met hers, framed by fallen hairs. Rey pulled back, her lidded eyes taking her in. Kylo whined, a pitiful sound she didn’t care she was making; she wanted her back, she wanted her weight against her, her warmth melting into her, her mouth against hers, her hands…

Kylo wrapped her arms around her, her hands never staying anywhere for long before settling on Rey’s hips and rubbing and shifting beneath her. “I’m not afraid,” Kylo said between gasps and breaths. “Not of you.”

_Never of you._

“Good,” Rey murmured into the shell of her ear. Her nails dragged down her skin as they trailed down her skin. Her hands gripped Kylo’s hips and lay her flat. “Close your eyes.”

The sound from her mouth was petulant and burdened and dropped with longing and sin. But Kylo obeyed as Rey spread her legs.

Kylo Ren was no stranger to fear, nor death. She only had to come to her bed, to Rey, to taste it, to give it all away. And it was with her name on her lips and her hands on her hips that she became unmade.

 


End file.
